


Closed Captioned Heartbeats

by bozothemoose



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-03
Updated: 2011-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bozothemoose/pseuds/bozothemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames was there when Arthur got his first suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closed Captioned Heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to sunriseinspace for looking this over for me. Title is from "They Write Books About this Sort of Thing" by Say Hi to Your Mom. Give it a listen. It'll make you happy. :)

Their first job is a month after they both go AWOL with a stolen PASIV and a lifetime’s worth of military secrets. Their client is an Italian businessman and they get to spend two months in Milan before the job goes off without a hitch. Of course it does. Mind crime is an entirely new phenomenon. The word _militarization_ hasn’t even come into play yet.

They stick around the city for a week after the job is done. Eames’ll find out in due time just how stupid this is, but for now he’s just begun his career as a criminal and he’s rich as a king and he doesn’t want to leave that just yet.

He doesn’t want to leave Arthur just yet either. They’ve been working together since the beginning of the dream-sharing project, and although the other man has a stick up his arse roughly the size of the Space Needle, he’s frighteningly competent and Eames hasn’t entirely formed his lazy self-assurance yet. He’s not sure how he’ll do on his own without his original partner in crime.

But Eames’ preservation instincts kick in eventually, and he books an early morning plane ticket and informs Arthur of his imminent departure.

Arthur, as it turns out, has plans for their last day.

“I want your opinion,” he says firmly, amidst Eames’ protests that he doesn’t want to sit in some stuffy tailors all day. “If we’re lucky, they won’t even have to do any alterations. Then we can do whatever stupid thing you want to do.”

Arthur fidgets the whole way there, wound tight in a way Eames has never seen before. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Arthur is excited.

“I’ve always wanted my own suit,” he breathes. “Not some JC Penney crap, either… the real deal. And now I’ve got the money for it. _Zegna_ ,” he says, with the same reverence that people say _Jesus,_.

“That was your childhood dream?” Eames defaults to mocking because he’s not sure how to deal with this new facet to Arthur’s seemingly flat personality. “A suit?”

Arthur doesn’t even flinch. “One of many,” he says, and his cheeks dimple slightly in a way that draws Eames’ attention like a flash of lightning. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

They’re actually fifteen minutes early, and Arthur’s foot taps impatiently against the wood floor as the tailor finishes measuring another man, his fingers practically twitching in anticipation. All the while, Eames sits in a rather perplexed amusement, and almost laughs when Arthur leaps up when his suit emerges from the back.

As far as suits go, it is not Arthur’s finest. It will take years for Arthur to refine his style, to come up with that delightful and daring combination of subtle patterns and texture that make up his wardrobe. This suit is less signature Arthur, but at the moment it is perfect. The definition of _Arthur_ , point man, has only just begun to take root.

Nonetheless, Eames finds himself winded at the sight of Arthur in all his bespoke glory.

Arthur’s never been one to look less than immaculate, military training and an incredible attention to detail combining to produce the tidiest person Eames has ever met. But this is different from his neat jumpers and slacks.

It’s not just the way the trousers hug his (wow, _spectacular_ ) arse or the way the waistcoat emphasizes his trim physique. No, it’s the way he stands just a little straighter, and the tiny gleam in his eyes.

Then he meets Eames’ gaze in the mirror and lets out a flash of a grin that’s so bright it hurts. Eames takes one look at him and knows he’s going to be chasing those dimples for the rest of his life.

“What do you think?”

(Later tonight, they’ll postpone their goodbyes until after they go on a bar crawl that will last until Eames absolutely _must_ catch his flight to Moscow. He’ll end up missing it anyway and will go to Cairo instead, which starts his love affair with sun and crime mingled together.)

(Three months from now, they’ll meet again for a job in Stockholm, and Arthur will have expanded his collection of suits to an almost frightening size. It won’t escape Eames’ notice, however, that he saves that first Zegna for special occasions and has a habit of running his fingers along the wool of his trousers when he thinks no one is looking.)

(A year from now, Arthur will introduce him to Dom Cobb, and Eames will feel a white-hot pulse of jealousy so strong it nearly knocks him off his feet. The aftershocks of that jealousy won’t fade until years later.)

(Two years from now, they’ll share their first kiss on the floor of Arthur’s flat in New York. They won’t be drunk, or high on adrenaline, or scared, or at death’s door. They’ll be warm, and comfortable, and Arthur will be slouching against the wall in his waistcoat and braces and it will just feel _right_.)

(Three years from now, Arthur will grit out _I love you_ with a gun to Eames’ head. Eames will have imagined a million scenarios in which he heard those words, and none of them will have been as perfect as reality.)

(Four years from now, Arthur will have moved a good portion of his permanent possessions into Eames’ house in Mombasa, and they’ll live with and snipe at each other for a good four months between jobs. When they’ve made it through without killing each other, Eames will know they’re in it for the long haul.)

(Five years from now, Mal will jump off a building and Arthur will break down sobbing for only the second time in Eames’ memory, pressing his forehead to Eames’ and repeating _I have to go, I have to help him_ until Eames will shut him up with a kiss and a soft _I know_. And he will know. But it won’t take away the sting.)

(Six years from now, they will be waiting for what seems like an eternity in baggage claim at LAX when Arthur will turn to the Departures board and ask mildly where Eames thinks they should go next. And Eames will still be worked up from Inception, from the thrill of success, from the pride at Arthur’s ingenuity, from the fear of losing Arthur to Cobb’s selfishness. And he won’t be able stop the question he’s been holding back for months.)

(Arthur will say yes.)

But for now, Eames just watches and basks in Arthur’s obvious delight as he turns to see his first suit from every angle.

And he lets himself fall a little in love.

“It’s brilliant, darling.”

It _is_ brilliant, and it’s only the beginning.


End file.
